Verse 1: (Evagreen)
The times get rougher, the crimes get cuffed
The imprisoned n***as always see the rough stuff
The Green Machine f**s the wife in front of you, the titties big like the sun and moon
The a** powerful like the sonic boom that the chronic exumes
The eggs on my dick from the oiling of the c*nt glue
The Maryland Terrapin, Myrtling Turtle
The Ferragins stare again, the b**h blow like the air and wind
The systems go down with the bears and the fair commences in the flares, the end
The bearing of the bloody bloodshed puts the scars on the soldiers
When the k**ing gets older the feelings get colder
The minds of the starving rappers are frantic
The desires are manic, the king had enough of the antics
The gruesome fatality committed in front of the children leaves the scarring image, and the image will be seen in every line of scrimmage
The triggers diminish the finish
The evil king will destroy the kingdom, force the peasants into slavery
The slaves will flee, the brave will see, the grenade has now forsaken me
The time lapse has finished the soul
The fine past has replenished the bold
The last dime will be put in the homeless man's bowl
The bloody d**hs that have got the men on the loose
The gory mess that had made the king create the truce
The dirty meth that has hung the addicts with the noose
The cheap groceries that are paid with the food stamps owned by the struggling, single mother of two
The ga**ed Jews evaporated inside the gas chambers in the hell of Auschwitz
The bodily fluids of the deceased turned into the bloody sauces
I see the light, but the light just pauses
I create fate, but I don't know when the world will cause it
The times go fast, faster than the sleep through the night
The parents don't understand the sickened son with the mind that's tight
The refined, in the right, combined with the fright
The enemies that have caused the teen to fight
The life we live is the temporary one, after the d**hs, the souls are free to run
The freedom stuns the shunned in front of the gun
The police frees the man, who beats the sons
The deadly fire, that incinerates the headphone wires
The perception is beautiful like the view from the top of the spire
The lighter is the tool of the potheaded fool
Keep the cool, sheep the wool, get the minds on the rules